


A Midnight Dungeon Interlude

by dreamerinfic



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drums, Dungeon, Episode AU: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords, M/M, Male Slash, The Master Has Issues, Valient - Freeform, master drums, simm master - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerinfic/pseuds/dreamerinfic
Summary: The Master pays a midnight visit to the Doctor locked away in his Dungeon on the Valient. He needs the Doctor, but must remind the other Time Lord how much he craves the touch of his Master. Doctor/Master smut ensues. The two Time Lords roll around on the floor and Jack hangs unconscious from his chains.Another story in the "A Dungeon Interlude" story collection (2nd so far). A Dungeon Interlude can be read first, or this story can be read as a stand alone story.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51
Collections: The Doctor and The Master





	A Midnight Dungeon Interlude

The Doctor pulled himself to consciousness through a haze of pain and fear. Still chained in the dungeon of the Valient he looked for what had awakened him. Had it been the door, a footstep, a feeling? He wasn’t sure. It had to be the middle of the night, though there was really no way to know in here. 

He looked over at Jack who hung, eyes closed, in his chains against the wall. The Doctor wasn’t sure if he was unconscious or merely asleep. He had been tortured for hours that day while the Doctor was forced to watch. There were still wounds visible on his bare torso that appeared to be unhealed and bleeding.

A soft footstep and the whisper of fabric caught his ear. As his gaze swept the room he saw him, the only other Time Lord in existence, the man he’d called his earliest friend, and his greatest enemy.

The Master stood just inside the door, watching him. He looked more casual and less dangerous than usual in black, silk pyjamas and bare feet. He stood quietly, his hands behind his back and his head cocked as he made eye contact with the Doctor. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“No,” the Master answered in a serious tone. “The drums are so loud now that I find it hard to close my eyes for more than a few moments at a time.” His voice echoing through the dungeon in the middle of the night seemed devoid of the madness he usually spouted. “And Lucy’s becoming tiresome. These humans…they don’t understand. They can’t possibly understand us; their minds are too small, too pliable.”

“That’s not true of them all.”

He paced forward in his bare feet, “Oh yes, your precious companions…the Doctor’s disciples.” He gestured at Jack, “How’s this one?”

“Unconscious, I think. Still suffering from the last wounds you and your guards inflicted.”

The Master nodded, “that’s good…we don’t have to worry about waking the neighbors then.”

“No,” the Doctor replied emphatically. “Not tonight. Not after watching you torture my friend all day and enslave the human race in your spare time. How can I let you touch me after that?”

“How can you not?” The Master’s hard, matter-of-fact response hung between them as their gazes locked and held.

A laser screwdriver whirred at the edge of his vision and before he could form a reply to the Master’s question his chains fell away and he slumped to the ground at the other Time Lord’s feet. 

The Master knelt gracefully, joining his captive on the floor of the dungeon. He pushed at the suit coat, unbuttoned the shirt, pulled at the zipper and then sat back to admire his handiwork. Slim body, long limbs, pale skin, he reached a hand out to touch the only other being in the universe who understood him.

The Doctor quickly skittered away out of his reach. “I said no,” his head shook with his denial. “Why do you want me anyway? We’re all just toys to you in here. Part of your plan.”

The look he received in reply was almost a look of hurt. “I have always wanted you. That has never changed.” 

He looked so sincere. The Doctor could almost believe that he meant it. He found himself looking into the Master’s eyes searching for the familiar madness…Alarmingly, he only saw the raw need of a man who craved something deeper. He recognized that need. 

The Doctor’s body betrayed him and he felt himself moving closer to his enemy, “We were so young…that first time…together…we didn’t know things would change so much.”

The Master reached out his hand again and stroked it over the Doctor’s hip reverently. “Did they? Change? Through all the battles, through all the centuries, this…need…between us has never changed. Even as we fought and schemed…we still touched, fucked.”

The Doctor winced at his use of the last word. To have the act of sex reduced to such primal terms offended his sense of romanticism. But he admitted it was a fairly accurate description of their relationship.

Silk brushed against his skin as the other man moved closer, his hands beginning to roam slowly. “I am rather fond of this new body of yours. You’re finally exploring your younger side. And everything is so…long.” He ran a hand lightly over the Doctor’s flacid member. “Well, not everything…not yet,” he amended mischievously. 

The Doctor sucked in a breath at the touch and jerked away. 

“Don’t fight it, Doctor. You know you want it. You know you crave it. Remember years ago, when you were the stuck up one with the white hair who wore ruffles all the time. Remember how I made you beg.”

There was a reluctant nod in response and the Doctor raised a hand tentatively to the Master’s smooth cheek. “I remember…I miss the beard.”

A broad smile spread across the beardless face. “Maybe when this face gets a bit more age on it I can try the beard again…just for you. It works well for world domination…and for domination of another sort.” He winked wickedly at the man beneath him and claimed his lips in a punishing kiss. 

The Doctor’s body strained toward him, pushing up into his silk clad hardness. The Master could feel the growing erection of his reluctant partner. He broke the kiss with a smug grin. “I didn’t hear a no, Doctor. Are you still denying my touch?”

Breathless and panting the Doctor merely shook his head, as if not wanting to give voice to his desires. His hands moved behind the Master’s neck to pull his lips back down to his. They kissed desperately, centuries of history bleeding into the space where their lips touched; their tongues warred together like they had done throughout time. 

When at last their kiss broke the Doctor gasped out one single word, “Please.”

The Master’s eyes looked clear and lucid in the dim light, his pleasure at the assent clear in his face. He signaled the Doctor to turn over. The Doctor’s legs spread open for him and he knelt between them. 

The hardness of the other man’s member pressed insistently at the Doctor’s opening and manicured nails stroked down his spine. As his back arched in response the Master drove into him causing a strangled cry to tear from the Time Lord’s throat. 

A long moan sounded from the man above him. The Master sunk deep and stilled, savoring the moment. “Being inside you is so good…so good,” he whispered as he nipped at an ear. 

The long slow slide as he pulled out had the Doctor whimpering with need. “Say my name,” the Master prompted as he held himself in check. 

Long fingers clawed at the ground beneath him as he panted, needing more. He had no choice now but to obey. “Master,” he gasped out. 

As the name sounded from his lips the Master plunged back into him hard and deep, claiming him as he’d done many times before. The Doctor’s body moved with him as the hard thrusts continued. Long slim legs slid against silk, hands gripped bare hips, fingers dug into pliant skin. Their pace quickened, the Master’s thrusts becoming more frantic. He wrapped an arm around the Doctor’s waist and pulled him tight against him. He buried himself to the hilt in the other man’s warmth. His short hard thrusts continued again and again as he sought to join them together as completely as their bodies would allow. 

The Doctor’s eyes closed in ecstasy, his mouth open in a silent cry. The hand around his waist slipped down to wrap around his throbbing erection, with a few short strokes the Doctor felt his body explode in orgasm. A scream tore from his throat as the man inside him thrust a final time, hard and deep. His pulsing member erupted with seed, flooding his body with the other Time Lord’s essence. 

They collapsed together in an exhausted tangle, breathing ragged and bodies still joined. The Master slowly withdrew and righted his night clothes. The black silk had been dirtied and stained, and was sticky with their juices. 

The Doctor moved to retrieve his own garments, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. “Wait for a moment,” the Master commanded softly, “I want to admire my handiwork.”

The Doctor laughed, “I’m afraid rolling around on the floor didn’t do either of us any favors.”

A hand stroked over his bare hip then traced his ass cheek, fingers slipped into the crease between, finding his wet opening. “I think it did both of us a world of good.”

“You seem different,” the Doctor observed, “less…homicidal…less cruel.”

Roaming hands stilled and dark eyes looked away from his.

“Master?” The Doctor probed carefully, not wanting to break the moment between them.

The eyes that looked back at him reminded him so much of Koschei.

“I think…” the Master began softly, “when we’re alone together, just the two of us with the world asleep around us…last of the Time Lords…things are clearer. I can almost forget them.”

“The drums,” the Doctor provided.

“Things seem more…balanced…” his voice faded.

“Tomorrow though, when the world’s awake…what then?”

An uncertain look appeared in the dark eyes of the Master, but then a slow grin spread across his face. “Oh, you know…try to take over the universe.”

The Doctor nodded sadly, “Yeah…”

The Master leaned forward, pressing his lips to the Doctor’s in a heated kiss, fingers pressed lightly to the other man’s temple. A soft echo of drums sounded through the Doctor’s mind as they kissed. As their lips parted and the Master’s hand left him the sound faded away into the night. 

The Master climbed to his feet and pulled out his screwdriver. “Get dressed,” he ordered. “I’ll leave the chains off until the guards come in the morning.” With that pronouncement he turned to leave. Pausing to unlock the door he turned and looked back. The Doctor stood in his pinstripe trousers, buttoning his shirt over his chest. He looked every bit like a man who’d just been fucked well. 

A satisfied smile spread across the Master’s face. He knew that image of the Doctor would be ingrained in his mind through many future regenerations. Tomorrow they would be enemies again. Tomorrow the drums would drive him harder and further in their sadistic quest for madness. 

Reluctantly he pulled his eyes away from the Doctor and shut the dungeon door. It was time to go back to Lucy. 

The Doctor finished dressing quickly; not wanting to be so exposed any longer than necessary. When his brown pinstripe suit was firmly in place and he felt more in control of himself and his emotions he turned to look towards Jack. He was shocked to see the other man watching him. 

Sheepishly the Doctor put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground, “You saw?” 

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, I tried…I didn’t…He and I…We’re…”

“Doctor,” Jack stopped him, “There’s no need to apologize. It was beautiful…truly beautiful. ”


End file.
